McRibbed For Your Pleasure


By Ian Hedges & Sasha Debevec-McKenney

Several days ago, McDonald’s announced that they would be bringing back the
McRib for a limited time. As Beloit students, we were excited to burst the Beloit
bubble and explore this throwback culinary delight. A trip to McDonald’s was in
order, even though a fellow Round Table editor insisted the Round Table, for some
reason, did not need a review of the McRib. Bert Connelly’s vegetarian bias was
overthrown, and we hopped into Ian’s car and drove to the McDonald’s connected
to the gas station off I-90.

The experience started off well. It was the nicest McDonald’s that Sasha had ever
been to. We both gallantly ran up to the counter and ordered two McRibs, vow-
ing to leave on all toppings for the full experience. As Ian bit down on that saucy
rib patty with pickles and onions, he described himself as confused. He thought
it didn’t taste that good but admitted that it was “dancing whimsically down [his]
throat.” Maybe this was because Ian initially had a prejudice against pickles. Sasha
tried to prove him wrong, and bit down on her sloppily assembled sandwich. Her
biggest issue was the McRib’s eerie aftertaste—but she was happy and could not
stop smiling. Ian then commented, “Maybe the first couple bits of meat aren’t good
but the meat in the middle is better. You should give it a chance.”

Upon finishing our McRibs, we did not feel completely satisfied. We then decided
to contact Sasha’s little brother, Evan, who has allegedly been hailed by University
of Connecticut as one of the most revered McRib scholars in the nation. The 17-
year old McRib connoisseur recommended that we refresh our palettes and try a
pickle-less McRib with had extra sauce, onions for crunch, and bacon…for the sake
of bacon. After Sasha took a bite of this modified McRib, she felt wrong but then
commented, “this sandwich might have healing powers.” As Ian bit into the sand-
wich, Coldplay’s “Clocks” came on; a fitting soundtrack for this experience.

Even though these sandwiches were angelic in its own way, we walked out of
McDonald’s feeling as if something was growing in our stomachs. Was it cancer? Or
could it have been the new Immaculate Conception? Either way, the sausage patty
with sub-par BBQ sauce spoke to us.

So if you’re feeling adventurous, mopey, extremely drunk or just plain slutty, we
recommend the McRib to you. Otherwise, stay away.



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